Ode to Sanity
by BannerFanner
Summary: Suffering from a damaging knife wound, Bruce Banner awakes to find himself cold and alone outside a bus stop. He doesn't know how far he's run, but he knows he needs to get back, even if every rational part of his brain is telling him it's a bad idea. He's returning because he has something he hasn't had in a long time - he has a home. (Sequel to 'Ode to Nightmares')


_**Previously...**_

_Pepper lowered her gaze. Were those tears pricking at her waterline? Tony scrambled into a sitting position, hoping against hope that it was just the harsh sunlight, or maybe dust particles, or tiny alien beings that harvested eyeballs. Anything else._

_'What's happened? Is he…?' Tony's mouth dried up._

_Pepper clutched her clipboard to her chest, voice wavering as she said, 'He's gone, Tony. Bruce has gone.'_

* * *

Through the remnants of a feral and inhuman haze, Bruce struggled to collect his thoughts. He knew he must have left a further mess in the tower by forcing his way out of the glass wall in a moment of desperation. The haze thickened there, and he couldn't discern what had happened next.

Some time during the night, he'd become himself again, only to discover his blood on the floor and transform for a second time as his inhibitions fell apart. He wasn't surprised that he hadn't woken Tony or Pepper. From the sounds he'd heard, their sleep had been as gripping and horrific as his.

Pulling his mind back to the present, he found himself curled up behind a bus stop with no recollection beyond his last change. One "Hulk-Out", as Tony called it, drained him deeply, leaving his muscles heavy and his movements sluggish. But two changes in one night, and a still-healing knife wound?

His head swam dangerously, and he shivered as a bitterly cold breeze billowed over his bare back.

Why would Tony do this?

Bruce shook this anger away, knowing it can't have been intentional. Then again, Tony had called out "Monster!" in his dreams. Was he having a nightmare about...him?

The road that stretched off in the distance was lifeless - the sun suspended over it in the middle of the sky. It seemed to be a small, country district. The Other Guy had gone out of his way to escape the tower. Bruce didn't know how long he'd run for to find this place. But at this point, he was grateful to be alone. He wouldn't want anyone else to see him so broken.

Gritting his teeth, Bruce stood slowly, supporting himself on the bus stop. He looked down to his abdomen, where scar tissue was already forming on the wound. It wasn't bad, all things considering, but it could be infected, and with it closing over as it was, Bruce felt worry creep into his thoughts.

He tried to take a step, and at once, dizziness overcame him. His knees buckled. Despite not knowing where the hell he was, he had to move. Fast.

Bruce gathered a handful of his pajama pants - now stretched beyond practicality - and braced himself. He made another attempt to stand, this time waiting a little longer before continuing on. Making his way to the side of the bus stop, he caught his murky reflection in the glass.

His soft, shortly-cropped hair was peppered with dirt and dust. His skin was pale, almost see-through. His eyes were gaunt, tired, and…

Green.

He blinked, and the last of the Hulk faded - simmering down into the dull, relentless presence that Bruce had become accustomed to. Those painfully brown eyes of his returned, looking back at him - lost, cold, and completely, utterly...alone.

Bruce coughed and took a hesitant step away from the bus stop. When his legs appeared to be steady, he set off along the quiet street. A voice in his head crooned at him, telling him to go the other way and start over, forget Tony, Pepper, the tower, everything. A fresh slate. But another voice, a louder one, encouraged him to return. He needed medical treatment and a good meal - in fact, he was famished.

'This is gonna be a long walk.' Bruce sighed. He let out a weak laugh and kept on. His feet protested to the rough asphalt, but it couldn't be helped. After about an hour, he imagined that someone was walking with him, holding his hand, telling him everything was going to be all right.

Have I lost my mind? I guess that happened long ago, when I gave up half my sanity to the Other Guy. I suppose being insane makes this a little less boring. That's what Tony would say. I wonder if he's looking for me. Maybe he's glad to see me go. The others have all gone their separate ways. Maybe it's my turn.

Bruce came up to an intersection that was slightly busier, and stuck out his thumb in the hopes of a lift. His feet ached, and he was barely keeping himself up. Eventually, a small, grey bug stopped for him. The driver merely grunted as he climbed inside.

'How far are we from New York?' asked Bruce.

'You're in New York, this is Alexander,' the man replied gruffly. 'I'll take you to the city. I'm going there anyway.'

Bruce let relief wash over him. 'Oh, thank you so much.' He settled in the back seat, and looked gloomily out the window. Suddenly, a white-hot blaze streaked across the sky. It curved down, disappearing into the row of houses. Could it be…?

No, of course not, thought Bruce. He was hungry, cold, shirtless, and lost. His sanity was more than questionable at the moment. He had already imagined that someone - his beautiful Elizabeth - was keeping him company, and maybe even fantasized about a few of the cars on the road being giant cheeseburgers, so he wasn't quite ready to believe his eyes.

Time went by.

Soon, Bruce noticed how the driver kept looking him over curiously in the rear-view mirror. It was understandable, of course - though Bruce was grateful that the man didn't voice his questions. The closest he came to doing so was when they were stuck in a mile-long traffic jam.

'Hey, this might seem a bit dumb, but I know your face from somewhere. I'm sure of it.'

Bruce shook his head. 'No, sorry. I've never seen you before in my life.' The man wasn't appeased by this, but he let it go.

Bruce adjusted his seat belt. A wince escaped his lips. Though his ability to heal had been increased after "the incident", this sure as hell didn't stop him from feeling pain. The ugly, fresh scar on his stomach was tight and sore, and he was finding it difficult to pinpoint a part of his body that didn't ache.

'You OK, pal?' Concern flashed across the driver's face. 'You look like you've had a rough night.'

'You don't know the half of it.' Bruce's features contorted as a wave of nausea hit him. 'Are we nearly there?'

'Yeah.' The driver's concern didn't falter. 'Look, is there anywhere specific I can drop you? Maybe a hospital or a shelter or something?'

'Stark Tower,' said Bruce. 'Please.'

'All right. I won't ask. Just make sure you get some help for yourself. You seem like a good guy, and there's one too many good people down on their luck these days.'

'I will, don't worry.' Bruce extended a hand, even though he knew the driver couldn't shake it. 'What's your name?'

'Lou Colvin. And yourself?'

'Bruce Ba-' He backtracked. If this man thought he knew him, his name could give him away. 'Bruce Bixby.'

'Well, Bruce, I must say, you're the most interesting guy to ever climb into my back seat.' Lou smiled good-naturedly. His untidy black hair and hard-set mouth gave him a harsh look, but his sleepy blue eyes were quite kind, once he'd decided to say something more than a grunt. He looked to be around Bruce's age too. In another life, they would've been great friends, but Bruce knew that friendships were somewhat out of the question for him.

When the car pulled up outside the tower, Bruce was almost reluctant to get out. He didn't know what awaited him there, but it didn't matter. It was his home.

'Thanks, Lou.' Bruce flashed him a weak smile and opened the car door. The strength he'd built up walking had diminished during the time he'd been sitting, so as soon as his feet touched the pavement, he crumpled. Lou rushed out to him and held him up.

'You sure you don't need the hospital?' said Lou.

'I'll be all right. I'm always all right,' replied Bruce.

'No one's always all right.'

Something pricked at Bruce's water lines, so he turned his back to Lou. Silent, he hobbled towards the welcoming doors. They opened for him without protest. As Bruce retreated from Lou, he felt the man's face staring after him.

'Goodbye, Doctor,' Lou said at last, backing away. Bruce's lips were suddenly very dry. He bowed his head in defeat. The tower doors finally closed behind him, blocking off the stinging looks that he'd attracted from passers-by. He shivered, despite the gentle heat of the building.

The clipping of heels on stairs got his attention. He cocked his ear to the sound.

'Bruce?!'

* * *

_**To be continued, in 'Ode to Forgiveness'.**_


End file.
